


Wen the Love Falls

by vyrtuosus



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 12:10:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 3,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20470823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vyrtuosus/pseuds/vyrtuosus
Summary: They say that love at first sight is exaggerated. Impossible, even. Because you don’t just meet a person for the first time and decide that you’re attracted to them… right?





	1. Meeting you- Summer of 2017

**Author's Note:**

> Dear wen-  
I’d like to preface this by writing that if you ever actually read this it’s either because I’ve grown a pair of balls and confessed, if I’ve stopped giving a fuck or if I’m dead or something… hopefully not the latter.

I still remember seeing you for the first time. Summer school. Ms. Mathura-Mathos’ class. Awkwardly entering through the front door late with a disheveled appearance I headed towards where Eric was sitting. Quickly darting my eyes across the classroom to find a spot so that I could remove the glares from around the room, I noticed you motioning for me to sit at the group of tables that you guys were at.

Knowing you would be the greatest thing to ever happen to me, but simultaneously the worst. Spending time with you resulted in some of the happiest moments of my life, but the days of being overwhelmed by melancholy as I tried to suppress my unyielding feelings made me question if continuing to talk to you was even worth it. But even though hindsight is 20/20, I would go back and do it again in a heartbeat.

You were gorgeous. And I had absolutely no idea how to talk to you. I got home after that first day and just sat there for a while. How would I ever get to know you? I was just a shy kid who could count the people I knew in that class on one hand. 3 fingers, even. No, 1. I had registered myself for summer classes at a school close to home, but with people I didn’t know. Interacting with the girl I liked was probably one of the least of my problems, but I decided that I would try to make it work. I had to.

Soon enough I began to notice that you would buy tea for yourself every morning before class. As such I decided to hatch a plan—I would inconspicuously ask you to also buy a coffee for me, granted that I paid you back of course. And so, on a fair Friday morning, with my heart racing faster than an Olympic athlete after a marathon I did. You agreed. Grade 9 me had no idea what to say after that. But hey, a start was a start.


	2. More than Acquaintances

Honestly speaking I can’t even recall in fine detail what happened afterward—I just remember falling more and more in love with you. Going to Subway for lunch and you commenting in shock at the fact that I would get _every topping_ and _every sauce. _Or that time we went to that ramen place. When I got broth on my pants and went to the bathroom to wash it off?

“Uhh now there’s this massive water mark on my shorts,” I remarked.

“…”

“I’m gonna use my backpack and cover it up. Hey, this looks natural, right?”

“It looks like you’re trying to conceal a boner.”

Innocent me didn’t even know what a boner was, but since you were cracking yourself up I joined in anyway.

We walked back to class for another period of Civics. What a drag. It didn’t help that our teacher was literally the only one in the province who willingly taught that course. As in, the only one who was passionate about the issues that we discussed.

“Blood diamonds,” she said, “are unethically generated and result in a great loss of life.”

Yeah, yeah. Whatever.

“So when my husband proposed, I made sure that the ring that he did it with was mined fairly, and in no possibility a blood diamond. He knew me too well. He had already checked.”

Glancing at you sitting across the table from me, I chuckled. If only one day I would have the opportunity to do the same.

Later that day we were given time to work on our rants. You pulled out your earbuds and started listening to something on your laptop before offering for me to join in. I wasn’t sure what to expect—it was either going to be Shithead or mmm Whatcha Say.

This time you had queued an actual song. One with an indie vibe and a voice that I absolutely hated. But of course, I wasn’t going to tell you that. I nodded along and hoped that perhaps someday your music tastes would change. That we would have songs to listen to together and artists that we would discuss.

Reading that now probably makes the both of us laugh.

Your laughter.

With every day we spent together I would find myself getting lost in the contagious tones of your laughter, and I felt myself sinking deeper and deeper into your eyes every time I would look your way.

Your eyes.

They say that it’s possible to get lost in somebody’s eyes. I had already vanished in yours.


	3. A Land of Wonder

July 24th marked the beginning of the last week that we would have in class together. Despite the cheery nature of our conversations, a melancholic mood had begun to settle in. With every interaction we had I couldn’t help but think about what would happen after the course ended. Would we keep in touch? Would I ever see you again? The last day loomed like a disease over a terminal patient. I felt like a soldier about to begin his military service. Except I had no expectation of ever coming back.

These worries continued to pulse through my head as I trudged through the school parking lot in agony. Sluggishly dragging my feet across the pavement, I told myself to live in the moment. To focus on the now.

Up ahead I caught a glimpse of you and a few of our other friends murmuring amongst yourselves. I was too tired to listen in. Too preoccupied to care. I was contempt with following you guys to lunch and hoped that a piece of pepperoni pizza doused in chilli flakes would be enough to cheer me up.

“Wonderland,” you said out of seemingly nowhere.

“Wonderland?” I repeated, not really knowing how to respond. 

“Yeah. We’re planning on going Thursday after class—do you wanna come?”

“Uh sure, I guess.”

On the outside I had shrugged and responded in the most nonchalant way imaginable. Yeah, yeah. Wonderland. Why not? It wasn’t like I had never been to an amusement park before.

In reality, an indescribable feeling of joy had just washed over me. I wanted to jump in glee. I wanted to pump my fist in the air. You had just asked me if I wanted to hang out. Well, more like our friends had decided to confirm plans of an excursion together. But did it really matter? I was ecstatic at the possibility of spending time with you outside of class. 

“A-are we bussing there after school?” I inquired with an ever-so-slight stutter

“I think so. Brandon has it all figured out I think.”

I nodded and responded with a contempt look on my face. You smiled back, and we did that weird handshake that we had become accustomed to. As I felt my knuckles brush up against yours, I had the urge to pinch myself. To wake myself up. Goosebumps began to flare across my arms as our thumbs touched. I was suddenly overwhelmed by an odd sense of relief, one that had been missing for several days. 

Like the two thumbs-ups that we were holding against one another, everything was going to be okay.


	4. Wonderland Pt. 2

That school day could not have passed by any slower.

I hurriedly bubbled in my scantron, wrote out my responses, matched the letter to the definition and glanced at the clock. 20 minutes left. The exam we had that day was probably the last thing on my mind. Nonetheless I looked over my answers again. Not that I had to, really. Someone had already leaked the whole thing the night before.

10 minutes.

I take a sip of my water and fiddle around with my pencil. I glance across the room and take a brief moment to look at you. Long enough so I can admire your face but short enough so that the teacher won’t suspect me of cheating.

5 minutes.

I glance into my backpack. Presto card, check. Season’s pass, check.

1 minute.

“Okay ladies and gentlemen. Time’s up. Please leave your exam on your table, and if you’re complete, you may leave.”

Freedom. 

As all of us stepped foot aboard that bus I tried to find myself a seat beside you. I was hindered by the sheer size of our group, and not wanting to seem suspicious, ended up on a pair of side-facing seats across from where you were sitting.

I mean, I wasn’t complaining.

On the lengthy ride there we each shared stories of our pasts—embarrassing ones, funny ones, and others that had us questioning the integrity of the storyteller. They were interesting, but I was contempt with simply listening along and gently swaying to the rhythm of the bus the entire ride.

That is, until Angela started sharing stories of guys you used to date.

One stood out in particular. It was someone she had shared a relationship with for some time.

I howled with laughter as she struggled to finish her story—after taking a brief trip oversees, she returned only to find out that the two of you had gotten close. Amidst all the commotion, I deliriously made a comment of my own.

“Maybe I should get into a relationship with Angela then.”

But everyone was too busy laughing. Nobody heard. I think it’s good that they didn’t.

The rest of that day flew by quicker than the Leviathan. Before we knew it, the sun had disappeared below the horizon, leaving behind the last traces of dusk to scarcely illuminate the rides that had brought us so much joy.


	5. A Night to Remember

As night began to wrap the sky in a blanket of darkness, I couldn’t help but once again feel a slight sense of desolation. The trip had been enjoyable, sure, but nothing had really happened with you.

You see, I had the whole day planned out. And for some reason, that had involved us going on rides together. Looking into each other’s eyes as we sat side-by-side. Screaming together as we were whisked down the side of a mountain at breakneck speeds. Slowly realizing that all this time we had been perfect for each other.

We lined up for the Windseeker, one of our last rides of the day. I stood near you like I had the entire time, hoping that by some miracle we could do it together. As we neared the gate we began to pair ourselves off. Eric with Peter. Brandon with Angela. Jennifer didn’t want to ride it. That left me and you.

The nausea was beginning to settle in, and we hadn’t even gotten onto the ride yet. Was this real? Trying to conceal the giddy look on my face, I pinched myself and glanced at my phone where my eyes remained fixed.

Before too long I was saved by the click of a lock and the swing of a gate, allowing access to the ride. Making our way past the operator, I noticed that my heart was beating faster than the cadence of the counter he held in his hand. 

We scrambled for a pair of seats and began dropping items into the storage areas that were provided. I took off my backpack, secured my water bottle and began fastening myself into my seat. I then glanced over to my right and noticed that you had begun doing the same.

The ride operator then began to make the standard announcements. You know, the ones that we had heard on repeat the entire day.

Except this time I didn’t hear any of it. I was too busy looking at you. How you were perfectly tucked into the ride. Your cute little arms as they grasped the edges of the restraining device. Your legs, flailing in the air. As I anticipated the start of the ride, I suddenly heard a thud. Then another.

I saw you kick your right shoe off. You had gotten it wet earlier in the day and complained about it nonstop.

“This feels awkward,” you said, before proceeding to remove your left shoe as well.

As you did so just in the nick of time, I couldn’t help but laugh. You joined in. Your feet glistened like the stars as we took to the night sky.

As the Windseeker reached its highest point, you pulled out your phone and began to take photos. I later asked you to send them to me.

Nowadays I keep those photos saved on my phone. I still look at them from time to time. Not because they were good photos-- in the unfavorable circumstances all you had managed to capture were the blurry city lights below us.

I look at them because I get transported back to that moment. Spinning around 300 feet in the air. The girl of my dreams by my side. And for a brief second I’m back to my old self, falling in love with you.


	6. Goodbye

I got home that night drunk with happiness. After going on the Windseeker we had gone on one more ride.

I can’t remember what it was called. It was a children’s ride. Low intensity. A bunch of teacups spinning in opposite directions. We had deemed it to be our last ride of the day.

We had gone on that ride together as well. As our teacup picked up speed, the momentum thrusted you closer and closer to me.

“Sorry,” you exclaimed as you grabbed onto me to stabilize yourself.

I pretended to mind slightly.

As the ride came to a gentle stop I found my arm placed on the rim of the teacup. I wanted to move it lower and wrap it around your shoulder. I wanted to bring you in for an embrace.

But I didn’t—I was too scared that you wouldn’t feel the same way.

Still hungover the next day, I returned to the classroom for the last day of school. I struggled to sit through the usual proceedings—the distributing of exam results, the sharing of final marks. All I had in my head was the fact that I would likely never see you again.

That whole time I had thought about confessing to you. Telling you how I truly felt.

We journeyed to the mall that day for one last outing together. I couldn’t shake the thought from my head. Sitting on the lawn beside the bus stop, I opened my mouth and tried to say something. Anything. I had rehearsed all the possibilities in my head, settling on a simple but effective one.

“I like you.”

I wish it did, but that never came out. And as the bus began to slow down and open its doors, it became too late.

We hugged and said farewell. I boarded the bus and continued to wave goodbye, mixed in with shouts of “see you soon!” Except I didn’t know when I would ever see you again.

Eventually the bus driver stepped on the gas. After seeing you fade out of my view, I turned around and sighed into my seat.

My heart had never been so heavy with regret.


	7. August

We continued to keep in touch that summer. We would text every night, and when we didn’t all I would do was miss you.

We talked about a lot of things—our parents, the school year ahead, our plans to attend a summer camp in China the following year. 

We even met up once. When we went to the movie theatre together to watch The Hitman’s Bodyguard?

(Cue backing music. Samuel L. Jackson starts to sing)

“Life is a highway, and it’s mighty fucking long.”

Little did I know how fucking long it was going to get.

Because one day, the texts just stopped.


	8. Lost in Confusion

The last thing we texted about was the 70s Show, which you were into at the time. So I watched an episode that night, wanting to share my thoughts with you the next day.

But I never did.

And two days later it didn’t make sense for me to talk about it anymore. I shrugged and figured that you’d message me that night with something exciting that had happened that day.

You didn’t.

This went on for a week. Then a month. Then half of the school year had already passed before I came across your name while scrolling through my contacts.

At that point I didn’t even know what to say. How would I contact you again?

I sat tensely for hours and hours trying to find a way to message you. Would a “hey” be too casual? Did you even remember me? Did you even want to talk to me anymore?

I decided to clear our message history and move on. It was the best way. Moving on. I figured that you had probably forgotten about me, and I decided to do the same.

It happens. Time separates people, especially when they never have the opportunity to meet each other. I set my phone aside and flopped onto my bed.

This time, I was never going to see you again. And despite the way that thought pierced through my heart, I was okay with it.


	9. 1 year later

It was 12 am on a cool autumn day. A notification popped up on my Instagram page.

“Good morning let’s get this queso.” Captioned by user @Wxnn.

I scrolled through the comments and caught sight of a couple mentioning something about NCT. I had no idea what that was. A quick google search brought me to the song “Regular.” 

At the time I had just started spiraling into the world of Kpop, and it was refreshing to listen to a group other than BTS. Not thinking too much about it, I added “Regular” along with some of their other hit songs (i.e. The 7th Sense) and moved on with my life.

A couple of months later I was lying on the sofa taking a break from studying when a new message appeared in my Instagram DMs. It was a screenshot of me following NCT 127, and a “YOU LISTEN TO NCT?” attached to it.

“Yeah,” I replied, not really paying too much attention at the recipient of my response.

“What other groups do you listen to?”

I wondered why this person cared so much. Until I realized that it was you.

I had forgotten what it was like to have a conversation together. Overjoyed at the possibility of reconnecting I began to list off some of my favourite groups at the time.

I could sense the excitement in your words as I mentioned that I enjoyed the discography of rookie group Wanna One. I had no idea why.

But nothing really happened after that conversation. We didn’t go back to messaging each other. It was more of a check-in than anything—a brief exchange conveying our thoughts over a shared interest. And so things went back to normal, you living your life, me living mine. Frankly that suited me well. I was happy with the way things stood between us.


	10. Depression

2018 threw more shit at me that I could have ever imagined. The loss of someone I loved. It had taken several months for me to start sleeping again, to start eating again, to start living again. Because when that person passed, I felt like I had died too.

Mental health is a fucked thing, man.

March 2019. I was sitting in my period 1 French class, wishing that it could be over. Not just the class, but life.

_Quelle est la raison d’etre?_

All of a sudden I heard my phone buzz. A notification. Pretty odd—I hardly even got those anymore.

I removed it from the depths of my pocket, applying pressure to the power button to turn it on. I took an unsuspecting glance at the screen, quick enough so that my _professeur _wouldn’t accuse me of using Google Translate.

In the notification bar I caught a glimpse of the sender—Win E. Saved with the same emoji and profile picture as 2 years ago. You were asking me how my day had been.

Part of me wanted to tell you everything on my mind. How glad I was to see your message again, and the way in which I missed you every day.

But the other part of me wanted to ignore what you had asked. I didn’t want my feelings to reappear again because I knew that they would never be realized.

You see, I had stopped seeing the purpose in life. I lived just to stay alive. Every day was like the previous, an ongoing cycle of isolation which was admittedly tearing me apart.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I HATE this French class, though,” I wrote.

And I’m so glad I did.


	11. Paper Hearts

A lot has happened since that day. We now keep in touch on a regular basis. You’ve since convinced me to join stan twt, which hasn’t been the most comfortable of processes.

Getting to know you again has probably been the greatest blessing that I have ever been given.

Your messages seem to always come in at the perfect time. Our conversations never cease to make me laugh, and our exchanges are always unique, whether they be kpop-related or just about our lives in general.

But I’m starting to find that nothing has changed since the first time I met you on that fateful day 2 years ago. My heart still skips a beat when I see the photos that you post online. I still wonder what you’re doing from time-to-time.

I’m still in love with you.

Except I rarely ever get to see you. We don’t go to the same school. And the thought of asking you out has always tied a dead knot in my stomach. 

So I re-read our conversations, look at our old photos and listen to the audio messages that we send each other. And for a brief moment, I pretend that you’re mine. 

I don’t want to pretend anymore.


	12. Epilogue

Bbt sometime? Or anything I just wanna see you. 


End file.
